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“You may go,” he said. “I decline.”

She shifted her weight to look at him more directly, and it caused a gap in her blanket. His hands itched with the urge to close that gap before cool night air could touch her.

“You can’tdecline,” she insisted. “It’s in our honor.”

“I can and I am,” he returned. “Go without me or don’t go at all.”

She didn’t balk or squawk. Shepeeredat him.

“Why don’t you want to go?”

A plague upon clever women who asked probing questions,Caleb thought passionately.

Obfuscation, he sensed, would do him no good. She had that annoyingly intent look on her face that said she meant to get answers whether he wanted to give them or not.

He sighed. He was too tired for this.

“It will spoil things if I go, lass,” he said, not sure why he was bothering to gentle his tone. “The Dukes of Montgomery…have a reputation around here.”

She actuallysnorted.

“You could try just being nice to them,” she said. “Have you tried that? I feel you haven’t tried that.”

And damn her for making him want to laugh, even as they threatened to tread on his most tender spots.

“It’s nae just me,” he said, swallowing hard against thickness in his throat. “The old duke—my father, that is… He was nae a kind man. Folks around here were frightened of him—and are frightened of me. It’s always been that way. There’s really no changing it, so it’s best just to let things be.”

“That,” said the retiring English flower he’d married, “is idiotic.”

“Ibegyour pardon?”

Christ, nowhesounded like a retiring English flower.

The look Grace was giving him was highly skeptical.

“Don’t misunderstand me,” she said. “I do not struggle to believe that you would be simply horrid at a banquet. You are mean, rude, and arrogant. When you’re not being those things, you are annoying. I will be the first to say it.”

“You certainly would not be the first to say it,” Caleb groused, feeling a bit put out. She was saying these things as though they were meant to make him feel better, though he wasn’t surehow. “But please, don’t mince your words on my account.”

“But,” she concluded grandly, “you are notfrightening.”

For a moment, this gave Caleb pause. Then he burst out laughing.

Grace looked extraordinarily pleased with herself.

“Very well, lass,” he chuckled. “Ye’ve got me there. Yearethe first one to say that.”

She rolled her eyes again, but she was smiling.

“Oh stop. You really aren’t that frightening. You’re tall. And very cross, nearly all the time, which is strange and irksome. But it’s not frightening.”

She was so unimpressed, so dismissive that he could not help but want to tease her. He moved along the stone bench until he positively loomed over her. Her breath hitched a little but not in fear—though Caleb didn’t dare think about the other possible reason for her reaction.

A dining room table was one thing; a balcony was another entirely.

He bared his teeth at her, making himself look as gruesome as possible.

“Are ye no scared of me, then, lassie?” He tugged a little at a loose strand of her hair. That much, he could not resist.